Moving To and Fro
by Crazy-M.D's
Summary: Life just doesn't stop. Sometimes, If it takes a step forward, the next moment i find myself moving 3 steps backward. But sometimes i am moving forward too. A TOUCH OF FRIENDSHIP BASED. Aftermath sort of.


_**HEY GUYS!**_

 _ **It's just little something based on TOF( A touch of friendship). AFTERMATH sort of thing.**_

 _ **SO those of you who haven't read TOF please don't read this one. You'll not be able to understand this.**_

 _ **Do mind the rating please because even though this os has nothing of the sort requiring that rating but it's based on something that is. Rest is just your wish.**_

 _ **Warning : It shows aftermath for a rape victim but please keep in mind i am not a victim myself nor a psychologist so most ideas are just something heard or read from different places or stories based on true incidents. Such ideas are mostly fictionised of course so don't take anything personally please.  
I am really very SORRY if i hurt anybody's feelings with this, it was not my intention and i will delete the story straightway if it makes you feel that way.**_

 _ **Thank you so much. Now towards the little story.**_

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"ABHIJEET!"

The caller's voice sounded from the voice box loudly making the man sitting on the couch in the same room startle a little before settling. He didn't respond though, continuing to read the piece of paper in his hands. But He heard everything,quite clearly, with a smile on his face...

" Abhijeet phone uthao abhi. I know tum wahan ho...(angrily) i saw the letters!"

The man still didn't respond and flipped the page. It was a two page letter and he intended on finishing it before answering the mad man on the other side of the call. He wondered how much time it would take for the phone to be slammed and for his bro to make the trip that took most people 20 minutes least. Well most people. He hummed softly to himself.

" Abhijeet...letter bhag nahi jayenge. ANSWER THE PHONE!"

..

There was a long silence before a scared voice continued...

" ABHI...please yaar...mujhe dar...

The voice, the fear, the scare in the words and most importantly the cracking of tone shook Abhijeet. He got up as fast as he could and picked up the phone with a soft reassuring...

" DAYA...main theek hun...kuch nahi hua hai...relax...i am fine...(he heard nothing from the other side except the silence so said more softly) Daya...i am sorry.."

Few more seconds passed before he heard a soft sigh and then the softer voice of his younger bro... " Kya kar rahe the?"

They talked for a little while after that, Abhijeet mostly answering all the jittery nonsense questions his brother asked him while trying to remain calm and composed. He had had a short supply of both in recent years, he didn't like sitting at one place too long...or more like talking on their home landline which he couldn't walk around with. He heard a soft sigh at last from his brother, who had apparently calmed down enough...and was now forcing himself to get off the call, well known himself about Abhijeet's decreasing patience.

Daya said at last..." Acha ABHI sir bula rahein hain...main rakhta hun phone abh acha..."

Abhijeet only replied with a nod and a hum but Daya knew what it meant so he silently replaced the receiver on it's place again. He glanced down at the phone and after shaking his head a bit moved back to his place on the couch after first checking the doors and windows of house, it was a habit, he liked to tell himself was built because he was a cid officer. But even he knew that was not the reason entirely. After settling he started to read the letter, from beginning again.

Reading those lines, words, thoughts, written in plain blue ink he wondered why he read these at all. What miracle he could perform, what different things he could fathom from this. The ink had always been same, the words english, alphabets counting to more or less 26 always. But he actually never saw the words, he read the thoughts and came to knew about the significance of them from the way some words had been scratched off, some were too wavy, some were wrinkled, some just repeated too many times to be meaningless.

He had taken the course. No he hadn't gone and admitted himself to a college, it would have taken him years to get back and do something really. But he had read on it, purchased books, read studies, spent sometimes even 12 hours a day reading and understanding and moving forward and backward. He never understood though that why the books never helped in a more helpful way. They had theories, symptoms, causes, effects, treatments, etiquette, but nothing much substantial really.

At the end it had been Gordan who had helped him, discussed cases during their sessions, shared his own experiences, different opinions, types, handling methods too sometimes.

Abhijeet had started to lose focus from his own job. Daya had noticed early on but he had never commented, satisfied to see his buddy getting better, getting the help. Moving forward.

But it had been ACP sir who had pointed out that Abhijeet was actually running away. Running away from the job he had considered his life, the most precious achievement in his life. It was then only Abhijeet had made himself to note how he hid behind those books, behind his sessions with gorden to not to go to bureau. To face all his colleagues, to get BACK, to really move forward rather getting stuck there.

Sessions, discussions, encouragements, outbursts, anger, fear, scare and among the voices of slamming doors, shouting abuses, blames, truths, behind dark sleepless eyes and wet teary gazes he had realized he had been harming his family in a way he had never considered possible. He was breaking them, blaming them for something they had had no control over. HE was punishing them for not being there earlier, for not coming earlier, for not just being there and saving him. He was punishing them for being there after everything shattered, for standing beside him when he knew he wasn't worth it. For helping him pick up the pieces of himself while they lost themselves somewhere in between.

So he had tried harder, harder still but it had required more patience, more talking, more trying rather than just trying harder.

After 3 years of THE INCIDENT ( he still sometimes found it difficult to name what had happened), they were still learning, still recuperating, he still sometimes took more steps backward then forward but it was something. It was moving forward. It was accepting, it was trying and learning with some people who really did care about him.

He still required his time off the penetrating gazes of his colleagues, still required to get away, to do something else. The phone calls still startled him, he went without gazing into the mirror for days before getting back again, his hands trembled sometimes while he checked bodies for injuries, his body stiffened when salunkhe sir delivered his analysis still, sometimes he would still had the first instinct to jerk back after seeing injections or guns.

So he knew what to look for when GORDEN forwarded him case studies, letters, emails of his patients (or rather theirs, the patients knew him well too) to him. He knew the meaning of different strokes, knew what to look for when they required something specific, sometimes even knew what came next. It's become more of an escape for him, something of solace where he could spend his time knowing that what he faced could help someone else too. It was a different feeling. A confusing feeling too sometimes when he was in one of his moods where everything just seemed sad and negative and...and just empty.

He still wondered sometimes what would have happened if he had been saved earlier, if he hadn't been kidnapped at all, but all those what if's just ended at nothing and everything but no where in between and he was always left just wondering. He thinks about that less now, but some days he still does when it's the only way to escape the nightmares at night.

His nightmares are mostly gone now though. He knows that because daya seems more healthy and relaxed and less like a walking zombie now. It had been one of the many things that had keyed the others in thinking about something being wrong. The first had been Abhijeet flinching away from guns and needles.

Abhijeet had never been (in his known years at least) afraid of needles. Or other instruments present in their forensic lab at least. He knows Salunkhe sir had snapped and broken half of the lab's instruments that day when Abhijeet had arrived in lab along with Daya (fortunately) only to leave within minutes trying hard to fill his lungs with oxygen. Abhijeet had been mortified to say the least and had apologized profusely to Salunkhe sir who had stayed silent and after Abhijeet had stuttered his apologies had softly patted his back with... " bache...bhukamp ka paisa government khud degi..."

In later days salunkhe sir had avoided using any metallic object in his lab whenever Abhijeet was present.

But it wasn't always possible and the team had noticed the reactions. They still hadn't asked anything, giving their seniors time to come out with the truth themselves. They didn't know the truth still...and never would if it were upto Abhijeet, but they were there always, they had been there and had seen the reactions from Daya, Acp sir and salunkhe sir and had learned from those reactions. They Didn't have the specifications about the ordeal or how to help him, but they had been stubborn enough to learn what they could and now it was rarely a requirement for any of the three known bodies to be present when they went to crime scenes with Abhijeet.

Abhijeet had felt a warm feeling in his chest then, he hadn't been able to point out what it was then, too obsessed with feeling only shame and anger and thinking how everyone else perceived his sight, but he had later come to know it as a feeling of pleasant affection and surprise and somewhere a soft feeling of content.

He was brought back from his memories with the ringing of his mobile and he didn't realize that he picked it up without flinching or startling but with a soft smile on his face this time. It was moving forward surely.

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 ** _A/N_**

 ** _So, as i said it was just something small based on TOF. I hope you liked it._**

 ** _Thank you so much for reading._**

 ** _Have fun, keep reading and reviewing and take care._**

 ** _I may add some other short stories or drabbles to it later. Do mention if you have any specific ideas. I WON'T WRITE ABOUT TARIKA please remember that. Rest is all welcomed._**


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